Counting Blessings
by CalicotheCat
Summary: A young Hannibal Heyes finds sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for.


**COUNTING BLESSINGS  
>By Calico<strong>

"It's not FAIR!"

"Oh, for Pete's sa..." He - my Pa I mean - stops.

I don't know why he stops! He is ALWAYS grumpy these days, ALWAYS. So why put on that patient face and pretend to be all reasonable? Huh? Huh? Why?

"Look, son, I know you're cold and I know working on this Indian hole is kinda a dull dirty way to spend a Saturday afternoon..."

"It's a waste o' time too! The Indians never came when you first dug it! And, there's been no Indian trouble anywhere near here - not for ages!"

He opens his mouth as if he's about to say something, then, shoots a quick look at me and shuts it again. When he does speak, I can tell he's choosing his words.

"Well, it never hurts to be prepared, huh?"

I scowl as I heft another spadeful of earth out of the cavity below the barn floor. Does he think I don't know we're not digging extra space into this old hiding place because of Indians coming. I know it's not INDIANS. It's because of...

Does he think I'm some dumb Kid who can't be allowed to hear...?

Sure, I can see why him and Mister Curry keep quiet in front of the little ones. I keep quiet in front of the girls too. But me, I'm practically grown-up. I'm twelve! I've been twelve since yesterday!

Besides, nothing is gonna happen. Everyone - well, all the grown-ups - have been reading the ink off newspapers as if they were the last installment a of six-cent story paper and scanning the horizon and huddling together to talk in low voices for ages now. Ages! The mothers shush each other when the children came near and father are stocking up on bullets and oiling their rifles. It's been the same for weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks.

Same as two years back. Me and Jed didn't take so much notice then because, back then we WERE still kids. But, it was the same - nearly - and nothing happened. Nothing at all. Zero! Nadir! Squat! Because - I scowl yet harder at the dirt on my spade - nothing EVER happens in this dang dull dump of a town! NEVER!

It's just school and chores and supper and homework - with your dumb sisters getting in the way ALL the time - and bed! Over and over and over! And AT school the people you want to talk to never look your way!

It is NOT fair!

They just huddle with their silly friends, tossing their curls and giggling whenever they see you glance over!

Not that I care.

'Course, I could go talk to - whoever - 'cept that my voice keeps going all weird. It cracks and drops and squeaks, all in one dang sentence. Especially when I try to talk to - someone.

Not that I WANT to talk to her.

It's just not fair - that's all.

I raise an exploring finger to my chin. Has that spot gone down? No. In fact... Is that another one? Oh, for Pete's sake. How can - anyone - be expected to look my way without giggling when my dang chin looks like the surface of the moon covered in red crayon? Huh? And when they're taller than me 'cos I haven't grown a single inch since July? Huh? And when...

"Pa?"

"Uh huh?"

"You know I told you I needed a new hat...?"

"Uh huh?"

"Did you - y'know - forget on my birthday."

A sigh from the other side of the hole. "No. I didn't forget. I'm afraid I couldn't spare the money, son."

I got boots - BOOTS for Pete's sake! - on my birthday. And they don't even count as a present because the girls had new boots too! Pa said they were NOT meant to be a present - they were just something that we all needed for the winter. But, I NEED a hat. This old thing makes me look dumb and everyone knows it's a hand-me-down from the Curry place.

I got NOTHING for my birthday. Nothing.

Okay, I got a shirt - but that came out of that huge bolt of material Mrs. Curry got as a real bargain because it was a roll end. Gradually - well not all that gradually - the entire Curry and entire Heyes family - boys AND girls - are being kitted out in the same shade of gray-green! When we all walk to school we look like a moving puddle!

No wonder - someone - giggles!

And I got a bookshelf. It is real high up in my room - even I have to climb on a chair to reach it. This is great, 'cos all my books get covered in grubby and sticky finger prints and in scribble. My sisters know, KNOW they're not allowed in my room 'less I say so - but; 'we don' know if'n you're there less'n we come in and look, Han'bul' and 'we was comin' in to ASK if we can come in...' And, you can't get as cross as you should when those eyes are blinking up at you, 'cos... Well, just because.

But a bookshelf's only a few pieces of wood jointed together when all's said and done. Okay, he's done supports at each end carved like books and when you look close you see they say 'The Marvellous Adventures of Hannibal the Great' on the spine - which is a bit childish, though I was kinda pleased - but, all the same.

And I got a picture from the girls.

And I got a cake. With my name iced on real smart. But, by the time I'd cut a slice for us AND for all Jed's brothers and sisters there was only half a measley 'H' left for me. Pa has said beforehand it was only a small cake - 'cos though they'd been saving the sugar it's got so short and so dear now - and it was up to me if'n I wanted to share or not. But, y'know, that's not a real choice is it? You kinda HAVE to share when folk have shared with you. And you kinda WANT to share too. It's just... Oh, I dunno.

There's never enough of nothing to go round these days.

And, I'm told I have to set a good example and not whine because I'm the oldest.

And...

It's all not fair.

I guess I'm scowling harder and harder as I dig the extra space we'd need to hide in these days, 'cos these days I've got annoying little sisters and a squawking baby brother - none of which I ever asked for! Anyhow, I must be scowling, 'cos my Pa looks over and says, all quiet, and says, "No girl worth worrying over will think any less of you for wearing an old hat, son."

What?

How did he know?

Not that there is anything TO know!

He doesn't guess about - the dream I had about her, does he? I go red as fire at the thought.

He does know about - y'know - those kind of dreams 'cos he had a private talk with me some time back and told me that as I grew up...

But he can't know that...

He is always, ALWAYS, nosing about in my life!

"Shut up! It's none of your dang business!" I explode. Sheesh, if my cheeks get any hotter I'll set fire to the hay!

I ought to get told off for shouting but, I don't. Maybe he knows I didn't mean to - it just came out. All he says is, "Okay" - then he carries on digging.

After half a minute, he says, "Do you have any homework, son?"

You see? Nag, nag, nag! Always with the questions! You can't have nothing private round here. Not that homework IS private, but it's the principle of the thing.

"Yeah. We've gotta write an essay 'bout 'Counting Blessings'," I give a wry shrug, "...Of all the dumb topics."

"What are you going to write?"

"I dunno. I can't think of no blessings."

There's a kinda pucker at the corner of his mouth as he says, "True enough - you do live the life of a serf, Hannibal."

Is he making fun of me? 'Cos - if he is...

"I'm sure if you think hard, you'll think of a few things you'd miss if they were gone."

Pfftt! Name three!

"Anyhow, it's a good thing your essay'll be on the short side because I need you to get it done this evening. I'm going to need your help lining these sides after church tomorrow and it's likely to take..."

No way! NO!

"Me and Jed have made plans!"

"So have I. I've made plans to get this finished tomorrow."

"But..."

"Jed can come over and help if it's okay with his Ma."

"You are SO unfair! I NEVER get to do what I want!"

He puts down his spade, his hands go to his hips.

"For Pete's sake, Hannibal! Can we quit with the martyr act? I know all fellas have to act like a colessal pain in the butt when they turn thirteen, but is there any particular reason why I'm being treated to constant sulking a year early, huh?" He takes a couple of deep breaths and puts on the reasonable face, AGAIN! "Look, son. I know life can seem pretty hard at your age..."

I am NOT listening to all that guff again.

"Stop pretending you understand! You don't know NOTHING! I'm NOT working on this dumb hole tomorrow and I'm not stopping around here to be nagged an' ordered about an'..."

"Yes. You are!"

"No, I'm not! I'll - I'll run away to be a soldier - then you'll be sorry!"

"So will the army! Do you reckon they have a unit for whining butt-aches who've grown too big for their britches?"

"I hate you! I wish you were..."

-oooOOOooo-

A LITTLE OVER AN HOUR LATER

Did I really say that? I guess I did. He knows I don't mean it, huh? It's just...

I did storm out - and he didn't come after me so, I guess he doesn't care if I DO go join the army.

I'm in my secret spot. No one knows about it - not even Jed. I found it a few months back and I come here sometimes when I need to get away from all the noise and the squawking at home. Or when I've had a row with Pa. Which is more and more these days. He's really changed these past few months.

If I stayed out all night - that's scare him. That's show him, proper.

I won't though.

I sigh. What I'll actually do is what I always do; I'll go home.

And, I guess I'll do that dang essay.

Counting Blessings.

Sheesh. I still can't think of none. Maybe I could turn it round, make a list of things I WOULDN'T miss, huh?

I wouldn't miss the spots on my chin!

I wouldn't miss my voice keep dipping and diving.

I wouldn't miss 'her' friends giggling and making me feel a fool.

I wouldn't miss my horrid new shirt and my dumb ugly hand-me-down hat.

I wouldn't miss having to live in a house where's there's never any peace and quiet!

I wouldn't miss Mrs. Curry telling me I should be grateful I have warm clothes to wear - AND a home - AND a room all to myself! She's really changed these last few months too!

I wouldn't miss a grumpy father who spends all his time nagging me and giving me chores.

I wouldn't miss annoying little sisters who follow me round and spoil my stuff.

I wouldn't miss my baby brother's squawking!

None of it's fair.

Well - despite myself, I give a half grin - maybe he's got a point on the martyr act.

I'll go home.

Partly 'cos it's getting cold - and the stove will be all warm and cosy.

Partly 'cos I'm getting hungry - and though it's ALWAYS either hash or pork'n'beans, I don't wanna miss my share. (Though - I heard someone shooting rabbits earlier and just maybe it was him. Rabbit stew - yum.)

But I'm also partly going home 'cos...

'Cos I'm kinda sorry and I kinda wanna make up. Okay?

And - I don't really want them all worried about me. Not really.

Yeah, I'll go home, I might not say 'sorry', but I'll show I want to be friends and he's okay about that - he doesn't make me grovel nor nothing.

-oooOOOooo-

As soon as I stride over the rise I know something's wrong.

It's too quiet. Too still.

I smell smoke.

And I smell ...

There's stuff strewn all over the yard.

Two gray-green rag-dolls are tossed aside, like trash, trampled into the mud. 'Cept - they're too big to be dolls. And I know they're not dolls. I know what they really are.

But I WON'T know - if you can understand that?

I don't look at them - because - I know what I'll see. Except I don't know.

My whole mind is sort of empty. I'm just thinking - 'I'll go get Pa from the barn'.

And I know he's not there. Just 'knowing' it is not reaching my brain.

So, I walk past the trash, which smells of...

It's like when we do it to the pigs. It's sweet and hot - then straight away, it turns cloying and catches the back of the throat.

I walk to the barn.

I stand in the doorway.

And, I look.

I stand - and look - for a long, long time.

My hand curls around the wood of the door and I clutch it so tight I think I'll never prise my fingers free again.

My legs shake under me.

And I don't seem to be breathing - though I guess I must be.

And still nothing is actually reaching my brain - not the way it should.

Instead of thinking what I should be thinking, y'know - proper stuff, I'm thinking: 'Told you so. Digging that Indian hole was a real waste of time.'

And I'm also thinking: 'So it's true - you hafta be real careful what you wish for.'

And part of me knows, I'd better keep thinking dumb stuff like that and I'd better go on not really seeing what is around me - 'cos, if I let this in...

If I let this be real...

If...

I unpeel my hand and go fetch the spade; 'cos - I'm gonna need it.

-oooOOOooo-

TWO MONTHS LATER - VALPARAISO

"Your essay topic today, class, is - the chalk squeaks on the board - 'Counting Blessings'."

My eyes come up from the chipped desk to stare at the words.

I remember. It was THAT day. THE day.

I remember sitting there thinking I had nothing to write. What a stupid dang fool!

"What'ya gonna put, Han?" whispers Jed beside me. "I can't think of nothin'."

"Sure you can," I say, firmly. "We got each other."

THE END


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